My New Personal Assistant

Chapter 15 - Negotiation

"Natasha gets this done monthly. Why do you think I will tell you anything just cos you want to pull some of my hair out?"

"First, you obviously never had anything waxed, did you? Second, it's not only about dealing with the pain. You don't have to answer aloud but think: What does your chest hair represent?"

Masculinity. I love having the hair on my chest. I find it manly most of all. But I find Thomas masculine as well, and he is smooth as they can be.

"Who knows, maybe you will like it. Even getting used to it, it has its perks. I had a slave who eventually begged me for it. So proud at first, so spiteful, so masculine. Ginger. I loved his fur. It was special. You don't see that every day, not with a body like he had. It wasn't the most important thing, but I must admit it wasn't the same for me without it." Thomas stared at that wax as he was saying that nostalgically.

"What happened to him?"

"We split. He now has a great Master. They are married and even have a daughter. They seem happy. He still waxes to this day, though. Well, I suppose his Master does the honors."

"How do you know that?"

"He kept swimming even after we broke up. I see him often. We go to the same pool. Some habits are hard to break."

"Are you jealous?"

Thomas laughed.

"No, I am not possessive, Matt. I see he is happy, and I am glad about that. I was the one who decided it was over, and it was years ago."

"Then why are you telling me about him?"

"Now you sound a bit concerned," he smirked at me. "The reason is that I haven't waxed anyone since. You laying here like that just reminded me of him."

"Why haven't you?"

"I love my man masculine. I want to be with a man. I want to see him as one. And I love the feeling of that hair on my skin. Honestly said, I was worried that the same thing that happened to Peter might happen to others."

.

I thought about it. It's not like I thought I would lose something. Just the idea of having it done like this felt... emasculating... I didn't like that one bit. If he loves guys with chest hair, why does he want to wax them off me? Is he trying somehow to like me less?

"Yet you don't worry that it will happen to me?"

"Part of me hopes it will," he gave me a severe look, "but that's not that simple. You will see. Mind is such a complex marvel."

"Are you trying to drive me away, Thomas?"

"Yes."

"And you are trying to make me less desirable for you, am I right?"

"In a way. But I also want to see you suffer and realize that's what being with me is."

"Do you seriously think I will be less masculine if I won't have chest hair?"

"It's not only about not having them, Matt. It's about having them taken away against your will. It's about your self-image. Because, when you will look into the mirror, with me fucking your ass raw, holding you by the throat and making you beg me for my cum. Trust me, slut. When you see yourself like that, spread for me like a hungry whore. Then you will know if that means something to you." he ran with his fingers over my chest with a longing look and a slight smile.

.

He looked at me seriously.

"You can always use the safe word."

"No." Why the fuck was this making me so damn hot?

"What is his name?"

"Fuck you."

He smirked and steered it.

"It's ready. You have more than enough time to decide. This will take a little while to take all of it off."

.

He sat on my pelvis with each leg at my side.

"Tell me, Matt. You did know I would rip this on you, didn't you?"

"Yeah," I breathed shallowly, not wanting this and anxiously trying to find a way to stop him.

"Good, I suppose you can make another appointment for him when you are now buying every guy you fuck a new suit. You can have a costly hobby like this.

"Don't you dare, fucker!"

He ripped it open, and I shook, but not from the excitement this time, just sheer worry.

He pulled the sides of the fabric away, staring at me.

"That's the thing you don't get, Matt. You love pushing me, begging me to punish you, yet you don't realize that punishment is not something one should enjoy. I can give you painful pleasure as a reward, yet you keep choosing to be punished. So for once, I am determined to grant you a real one."

.

I was feverishly trying to find a way to stop this! There is no way Natasha won't notice that.

"Counter offer!"

"What?"

"I want to give you a counteroffer!"

"I am listening."

"You will not wax anything! We will meet in January instead of February. Seventh. Yes, January seventh that's a month from now. And in return, I will tell you everything."

"You will tell me everything eventually, Matt."

"And how can you be sure I will tell you the truth?"

"Do not play with me, slut!" he growled.

"Look, I know you care! I can see that. You like me! Yeah, I know, I am sorry I am not like that, but I still care about this!"

"Your chest hair?"

"No! Fuck that! I mean what we have, whatever that is."

"Right. Still, you will tell me what happened."

"I will if you let me lose now. Fuck me as we did over the weekend, and you let me see you in January. I will tell you everything."

"What if I don't agree, Matt?"

"Then I will endure this all! And you fucking know I will. And I will make up the most believable story you could ever hear, taunting you each time with it. You will never know what the truth is!"

"I am not playing this game, slut." he was angry. Good, I could see he cares!

"Then agree to let me go. Let me see you in a month, and I will tell you what happened."

"How can I know you will tell the truth this time?"

"I can prove it to you! I will prove it to you. I will just need my phone."

He looked angry, yet he was considering that.

.

"You can choose. Either I will wax your chest and all from the waist down, then agree to meet you in a month, or I will not wax anything, but I will see you in three."

"Why legs also?"

"Cos I want to. Chest only is not that big punishment on its own"

"How long does it takes to grow back?"

"Depends on how fast your hair grows. About that month."

"Do I get to fuck with you either way?"

His lips curved involuntarily up. That was so satisfying.

"Yes."

"Then go on with it fucker, but I want your dick in me as you will do it."

I saw him take a sharp breath. He wanted that as well.

.

"So, I will take all of this off," he combed through the hair on my chest, "while I fuck you. And you will answer me truthfully on anything."

"Yes."

"Then I will wax your sore hole, butt, and legs."

"Then you better fucking take me in front of that mirror!"

"Fuck, Matt, you are the worst thing that could happen to me."

"I take that as a compliment."

"I am not sure if you should."

.

"And then I will come here January seventh."

"Why seventh?"

"I will have a birthday."

"You want to spend your birthday with me?"

"Well, yeah." I definitely don't want to spend it alone with blue balls.

"You are the most confusing person I've ever met, Matt."

"Thanks?"

The corners of his mouth shot up in a grin, and he just shook his head. Is he still angry? He didn't seem so now.

.

"Thomas?"

"Yes?"

"Please, kiss me." I purred, knowing how much it trills him to hear me like that. Yes, I was well aware that he liked me. Hell, it was hot, knowing that, despite him being a man. He was one spectacle of a man.

He leaned closer, and his lips were just above mine. I don't know why, but I craved them so much! I love feeling his tongue in my mouth. Kissing him could be so demanding and satisfying. I raised my head toward him, and that prick moved away again. I growled in hopelessness.

"No."

He instead went to my chest and scratched it with his fingers lightly. He licked my neck and brushed his face in my fur.

"What are you doing, Thomas?"

"Hush, boy."

I just watched him. He was now nearly adorable. As if he was giving them goodbye. I realized that some of that tension between us had disappeared. I thought it would be less hot like that, but as if something else replaced it. It was calming and warm. I wanted to kiss him now even more.

"Thomas, please."

He looked at me.

"Very well, Matt. I agree. Seventh."

I smiled. "Seal it with a kiss?" it's weird trying to be cute. It's much easier to be demanding and rough. But I wanted him so bad now.

.

He smirked but leaned to me and kissed me with such a slow, tingling kiss that I pulled the ropes on my wrists in desperate need to hold him. We kissed for a little while, and my dick was hard, pressing on the clothes between us. How much I wanted to be with him now.

What is happening to me? I came here to be hurt, drawn in pain and pleasure, yet I am here yearning to be kissed by him and hold him close...

He let go of me and stood up.

"Where are you going?"

"I am going to prep your skin."

"You don't need to do this, you know? I know you like them too."

"Matt, I am a man of my word. It's going off."

"No... Fuck!"

.

Now that I saw it was really happening, I started to get frustrated. As if I was hoping the whole time that I could somehow change his mind. Fuck! But there is no way I will be celibate for three months instead.

Was so frightening the not cumming part? Or me imagining that I won't see him for three months? The mere knowledge that I knew the answer was confusing me... Why...?

I looked at his hands, veins traveling them, his solid muscular chest as he was bending over me, wiping my chest with something. I looked at his neck, the hot vein I loved so much, his angular jaw and dark blue eyes concentrating. He was beautiful. "How can a man be so beautiful and masculine at the same time?"

He looked at me. Did I say that out loud? Damn! What's happening to me?

I turned away, flustered. I must have been beetroot red. My face was burning.

.

I suppose he finished after a while as he moved to my legs, untying them and spreading them with his knees. I looked up, and he was on all fours above me. Watching me closely.

We just stared at each other for a moment, silent. There was no aggression to him now. I should be missing it. Why don't I? Is just the thought of having my chest waxed making me softer?

Bullshit! That's the silliest thing I could think of, yet part of me was worried. Something is definitely happening here, and it was scaring the shit out of me. I don't want to be like this!

"Get on with it, pretty boy," I chose to act mad--anything than this weird softness.

He frowned a little and then smirked.

"As you wish, slut."

.

Thomas opened my pants and roughly took them off, leaving me in those Brandon's briefs.

"Classy. I must say I like his style," he said with a weird smirk. He took the hem of the shirt in his hand, examining it. "Seems expensive."

"I don't suppose it's cheap,"

"So, you shoot high. Good to know. I suppose if I ever lend you to someone, I will go for some truck driver or something like that."

"You will never lend me to anyone. You are bluffing."

He just smirked at me. I don't know if he just tried to make me worried or if he meant it. Hell, I didn't even know how I felt about something like that. But my thoughts disappeared in my scream as I felt him raise my legs and rip the briefs on me.

.

"Fuck!" I wasn't expecting that. My dick shot up, and a precum oozed on that torn cotton. He ripped one huge hole, exposing my whole butt, letting just parts hang around my thighs, and that prick left my dick covered.

"Keep those legs up like that," he put my legs in the most uncomfortable position, spread wide up in the air. I could hold it for some time but not long without support.

"Like this?"

"Yes"

"For how long?"

"The longer you can make it, the more prepped you will be for my dick," he grinned as he dived into my crack.

"Fuck!" I screamed out of pleasure and frustration. I felt his tongue licking my hole, and ecstasy ran through me, yet my legs started shaking. I moved them slightly. He looked at them but continued.

I moaned and tried to enjoy it the most, but those fucking legs up like this were distracting. I tried my best, spending a couple of good minutes like that, feeling his moist tongue inside me. Then I moved them a little as they started shaking.

He stopped and moved them into the correct position again.

"Last warning."

"Fuck!"

He sucked on my hole, licked it, and spit on it, putting a finger inside. I tried with everything in me. My thighs were shaking as he pressed a second finger in and rubbed my prostate. I couldn't stand it anymore. I screamed and moved them.

He stopped and raised himself on his knees.

"I must say, you lasted longer than I anticipated."

He leaned toward me. "Good boy," and kissed me softly. I just moaned into his mouth, pressing my covered dick to his.

.

Thomas unzipped his pants and pulled out his majestic cock.

"Want to suck it?"

"Fuck! Yes, please!"

He smirked and sat on my chest, putting his dick in my mouth. He held my head hard as he started pounding my throat without a thought about me gagging or gasping for air. My dick was leaking so much that I thought I could come with a single stroke. He pulled out and slapped me. "Good boy," He kissed me again and went between my legs. He took a condom and put that on, pressing his dick at my crack.

He tilted and grabbed that stick he steered the wax with. Then as if he got an idea, he asked.

"Was that washed before you put it on?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

.

He stood up and came with scissors.

"What are you doing?"

"Why should I use my strips when I have here such high-quality cotton?"

"What?"

Bran will kill me! I hope this wasn't his favorite shirt. Hell, I already need to buy him one anyway, but coming over with a shirt ripped in front with some buttons missing is different from coming with torn patches of fabric... Fuck it. So he will laugh at me more. I don't think it would be worse than him seeing my chest hairless.

Thomas systematically cut a rectangular strip out of one side. He smeared wax on the far side of my right pec and covered it with the stip. He looked deeply into my eyes and pushed the dick-head in. I moaned in anticipation and pleasure.

"What is his name."

I looked at him.

"Bra..aaaaDon!!! Fuuuck you, fucking dick!"

.

That sadistic fuck just rammed full speed his whole pole into me just as he ripped part of my chest off. Yes! That's what it felt like! Fuck! The pain from everything was overwhelming.

He pulled out, letting just his head in again. No! He cut another strip slowly. Put wax on hair next to that red mark the first one left and covered it again with a piece of Brandon's shirt. Fuck! No!!

"I am sorry I didn't quite catch that. Repeat it."

I looked at him with a blend of anger and worry. The surprise was nasty, but knowing now what was awaiting me was worse for some reason.

He raised his eyebrow suggestively, urging me to answer.

"So, again. What is his name?" he sounded nearly sweet. Devil!

I took a deep breath bracing for the next blow.

"Brandon! Fuuuck!" he ripped it again, bottoming into my poor hole, and repeated the process. No...

"Surname."

I breathed heavily, watching him. I feared this man. I genuinely loved fearing him.

"Watts!" I groaned in pain.

"Age."

Why the fuck is he starting with such trivial questions? This way, he will ask a hundred of them till he finishes. Fuck! Is that his plan, this slow death? I looked at my chest, Fuck! There is a lot to do more... I am doomed. This is so painful. The worst was there wasn't any thrill in it for me. I could see he was enjoying it somehow, but for me, it was just as he described it -- a punishment.

.

"I asked you a question, slut. Do you know his age?"

I nodded

"Then tell me."

"Thirty-six..." I said through my teeth, breathing deeply as he rammed in.

Another patch. And his dick pulled out again. This was hell. My hole was getting slowly used to it, but still, it hurt a lot, and my chest burned.

.

"Color of his eyes?"

"Seriouuuuusly?" he ripped it again! Why?! "Fucker!!"

"Tsk tsk tsk. You could have saved yourself that."

"Fucking sadist!"

Thomas just smirked, applying more wax and pulling out.

"So? I am ready. You can tell me."

Ready, my ass!

"Blue!" Ouch... I only moaned at this point. Is he trying to make me hate him? Fucker! He can be cruel. His eyes got this strange glow when he heard that, was that bad or good?

"Hair?"

For fuck's sake, we will be here for days like this!

"Blond!" I roared, getting used to it all. He is patient; I give him that. There was maybe fabric for one or two strips to be cut from this side if he won't start cutting the sleeves. He cut one and repeated that torture.

.

I breathed heavily, looking at his smirking face and my raw red chest.

"Height?"

I was pretty much expecting this now. As well as the never-ending repetition of pulling his dick out and waxing the next part.

"6'2"

"Build?"

"Muscled."

.

"He also wears glasses, and he is funny as hell!" I barked defiantly at him. While he was making another strip ready. I saw his eyes darken at my attitude.

"Occupation?"

Before I could even catch a breath for an answer, he ripped it off and rammed into me harder than before.

"Fuuck! I didn't answer yet!"

"My bad, I got ahead of myself."

"Owner of start-ups, he then sells them and starts a new one," I replied before he could cut out a new strip. It was bizarre talking about Brandon like this.

.

"Marital status?"

"Should I wait for your dick? You are messing up your tempo!"

He stood up and returned with clamps.

"No! Fucker, no!" I wiggled and pulled on the ropes in frustration and fear.

"I think you are not taking this seriously enough, slut."

Fuck! I hate clamps! I should maybe move them to my limits! Fuck, those hurt!

"Now. Marital status."

I was genuinely afraid now. I knew very well how moving those felt. I didn't want to imagine how pulling the skin next to them would feel. Why did I want to tease him again? Dumb-dumb idiot!

.

He held the strip and waited. I took a few sharp breaths getting through the fear.

"Divo... fuuuck!"

"Divorced!" I roared.

One side of the shirt was missing now. All that was left was a thin strip with a few buttons and a part on top connecting it with the sleeve.

"Right."

.

He pulled the second side, cut another strap from it, and repeated the process.

"How did you meet him?"

"On the street! Fuck! Take those clamps off, please!"

"On the street?" he repeated with a questioning look, deep in my hole. I squeezed his cock in me, trying to calm down.

"Yeah, when we were twelve. He is my best friend."

He frowned a little but continued cutting the shirt and applying the wax. I felt his cock throb in me. Yet he was ever so patient.

.

Thomas pulled out again, leaving in just the head.

"Who fucked who?"

"Hell! No one!"

He looked at me, frowning. Finally! Slowly he cut another part and held it ready.

"Did you do anything sexual together?"

"No!" he didn't pull this time, didn't trust in. He just watched me seriously. The shock from not feeling the expected pain felt weird.

.

"You didn't sleep with him? Yet you made me believe you did?"

"Yeah."

"Why?" he didn't move. Thomas stayed completely still with a severe look in his eyes.

"I just didn't correct you when you assumed, and you asked about the shirt, so I answered"

"Why?" he growled as if he knew the answer.

"I wanted to make you angry."

He ripped it without warning and pulled his dick out completely.

"Fuuck!"

.

"Are you telling the truth?"

"Yes," a sting of guilt ran through me. There was still Damien.

He put his arms on the sides of me and leaned close.